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Midnight by Octavus Roy Cohen
page 43 of 234 (18%)

"If she was the woman in the taxi--"

"If! Sure--_if!_ All I mentioned that for was to show you we might as
well start thinking close to home before we go to beatin' through the
bushes to follow a cold trail."

The reporters left, and Carroll smiled at Leverage.

"Good idea, Eric--about Miss Gresham."

"'Tain't a hunch," said Leverage. "It just made good talkin'."

"I'm glad you did it, anyway."

"What is thare about it that you like?"

"Those newspaper chaps will play it up. Maybe they won't intend to,
but they'll play it up, just the same; and it won't take us long
either to connect Miss Gresham with the crime or to link up an
iron-clad alibi for her."

"H-m! Not bad! You know, Carroll"--and Leverage smiled frankly--"I'm
always makin' these fine suggestions an' pullin' good stunts, an' never
knowin' whether they're good or not until somebody tells me."

"A good many folks are like that, Eric, but they don't admit it
afterward."

"Neither do I--publicly."
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